


A Memento

by afteriwake



Series: A Past Love [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-05
Updated: 2012-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-09 06:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She left him a car and a photograph in her will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Memento

**Author's Note:**

> My first Wholock fic not in my “All Of Time And Space” series. I’ve rediscovered Death Cab For Cutie’s “Title And Registration” and this just kind of bubbled up and demanded to be written. A little angsty, but I love it just the same.

_The glove compartment is inaccurately named  
And everybody knows it.  
So I'm proposing a swift orderly change._

_Cause behind its door there's nothing to keep my fingers warm  
And all I find are souvenirs from better times  
Before the gleam of your taillights fading east  
To find yourself a better life._

_I was searching for some legal document  
As the rain beat down on the hood  
When i stumbled upon pictures i tried to forget  
And that's how this idea was drilled into my head_  
Death Cab For Cutie, “Title And Registration”

Sherlock didn’t drive, not often at any rate. He didn’t enjoy it very much, and the idea of freedom at the drop of the hat was tempered with the concerns of it being a waste of time, money and life because he could be finding other things to do. But she had left him her car, in her will, and he knew every once in a while it needed to be driven.

Amelia Pond, bright as the sun, warm as her fire-colored hair, free spirit and the only girl he’d ever fancied when he was young. She hadn’t forgotten him, in the end. Sure, she had married Rory Williams, and he had moved on and moved away, but there had been a summer where he did normal things, did all the things a boy nursing a crush would do for the girl he admired. But it had been one summer, and reality had intruded. He had left for London, she had stayed in Leadworth. There was no contact until her executor came to his door.

She had disappeared and had just been declared dead. He got the car “and anything contained within” the note had added. He hadn’t known what to do with a red convertible, but he kept it all the same. It fit her, this car, and even though he knew her husband had probably picked it out he thought she’d had a hand in it as well.

He was inspecting it before taking it out the first time. He opened up the glove box and started to put the title and the insurance card in when he saw it. A photograph someone had taken, of the two of them that summer. He dropped the papers on the passenger side floor and pulled out the photograph. He looked so damn young in that picture, and he smiled so brightly. He had his arms around her waist, and she had reached up behind her and put her arms around her neck. They looked so happy.

He compared every woman to her. All of John’s girlfriends, Sally, Irene…whether they showed an interest in him or not he always catalogued them as “like Amelia” or “not like Amelia,” and time and again they all fell in the “not like Amelia” category. He realized he should have gone back and fought for her, and then maybe he wouldn’t simply have a car and a photograph to remember her by.

He flipped it over, saw her familiar handwriting. There was quite a note on it, a love poem and an apology, all rolled into one. He read it, then slipped the picture back into the glove compartment, picking up the paper and putting them on top of it. When this ride was over, then he would take it out and put it where he could look at it For now, it was safe where it was, and that was good enough for him.


End file.
